


To Live by Brush and Bow

by Mayhem21



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Author: Treehugger, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-03
Updated: 2003-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 10:42:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayhem21/pseuds/Mayhem21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale of romance in Mirkwood, a tale of great feats and strong feelings...I hope you enjoy! Set in Treehugger's Silver Peacock and Skulking Cutpurse universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Feast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Treehugger](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Treehugger).



> The characters, the setting, all are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. Except for Tanglinna, Celair, and Riwmegor. They were created by Treehugger, who was kind enough to give me permission to write a story about them.
> 
> If you want to read more about Tanglinna, go read all of Treehugger's fics. There are a few others floating around, too.
> 
> Last thing, promise: please review! I've never written much and any comments will be appreciated.

There was no sound in the room save for the sound of a brush moving over paper. The maiden in the painting smiled up at the artist, causing him in turn to smile back. Looking outside, the artist could see that the moon gleamed over the forest. With a sigh, he put down his brush. Slowly, he began to dress for the feast. Gathering the loose strands of his silver hair in a long, complex braid, he left his room and walked out into the forest. Very soon, he began to hear the sounds of laughter and singing, the sounds of merry-making. As he strode into the firelight, a dark haired elf turned towards him, mirth in his eyes.

"There you are, Master Archer! We have been feasting since sunset and you just now arrive? Shame on you! I would think an elf of your years would at least know better than to keep your lady-to-be waiting. If you do not press your suit soon, she may cast her eyes elsewhere."

"Stay your tongue," the Master Archer replied, a stern look on his face. "Or I shall do it for you. If you must know, I was attending to a matter of great importance. I have not completed it yet, but I felt I had reached a good stopping place." The archer began to walk towards his place at the high table, and suddenly spun around.

"As for my lady 'casting her eyes elsewhere', I have faith in my lady. If she is not truly happy with me, then I will not hinder her leaving, for I care more for her joy then my own. But I do not believe that will come to pass". With that, the Master Archer turned once again to the high table and made his way to the place at the king's left hand. As he approached, King Oropher turned towards him.

"Well Tanglinna, I see that you have finally decided to grace us with your presence," the king paused, and then turned towards the assembled elves. "What shall be done?" he cried. "Here we have an elf that has chosen to miss the better part of our feasting! What should be done about this?"

No sooner had the king spoken did the gathered host begin to call out suggestions.

"Throw him in the dungeon!"  
"Send him to live with the dwarves!"  
"Feed him to a dragon!"  
"Force him to eat the cooking of Galion the Butler!"

Hearing this, the king smiled a mischievous look in his eyes. He turned again, not towards the people, nor to the archer, but instead to a young elf-maiden who sat next to Tanglinna's empty seat. "What say you, Lady Celair?" he asked. "It is you he has slighted most; it is only fitting that you should decide his fate."

Celair smiled, laughter dancing in her eyes. "The offence is a grievous one. For him to choose to hole himself up in his room like a mole rather than come to the Autumn Solstice Feast does require some penalty. But since he did not miss the entire feast, I do not see how we need be too harsh. Should we throw him in the dungeon, would he not again be absent? And can any here truly believe this offence is great enough to force him to live with dwarves? If he is eaten by a dragon, he will surely never make such a lapse in judgment again, but do we truly wish to be deprived of the Master Archer's sly wit? But as for the last." With that, Lady Celair smiled and rose gracefully. "I think a meal cooked especially for Master Tanglinna by the good butler Galion would be a fitting punishment."

Hearing this, Tanglinna's eyes had gone wide. Galion had never been known to make any meal that did not leave its consumer absent from court for several weeks. Gathering his wits about him, he knelt before Celair. "If it pleases you, my lady, may I have a two days respite from your sentence?" he paused for a moment, watching her face before continuing. "If you would grant me this humble request, I will be able to show you the reason for my tardiness."

Celair looked at him curiously before agreeing. For a moment, it seemed to the two that the feast had vanished, leaving them alone, away from prying eyes. They both jumped slightly when King Oropher cleared his throat and gestured for them to seat themselves. Smiling, they did so, and there was much song and laughter through the night.

* * *

Tanglinna fiddled with the strap of his satchel as he waited for Celair. Seeing her approach, he straightened, assuming all the dignity he could muster.

"Good day, my lady," he said. "Would you care to walk with me?" Celair merely laughed and took his arm.

"Well, Silver," she began. Tanglinna chuckled at her pet name for him. "At Solstice you promised you would reveal the reason for your delay. May I assume that this project of yours rest in the satchel at your side?" Tanglinna smiled, unsurprised by his lady's quick wits.

"You are correct my lady, as usual." By this time they had reached a secluded glade in the forest. The Master Archer guided Celair towards a nearby tree stump and knelt beside her. Reaching into his satchel, he pulled out the picture he had begun the day of Solstice, now encased in an elegant frame made by Tawarant the carver. He extended it towards her, his eyes watching her face.

Celair took the picture from him and let out a gasp of surprise. Within the frame was a portrait of Tanglinna and herself, standing in a woodland glade much like the one they were in now.

"It's beautiful," she exclaimed. "I have seen many of your sketches before, but this one is truly your best!"

Tanglinna smiled, feeling much relieved. He opened his mouth to say more when a harsh screech ripped through the air. The archer sprang to his feet, his hand moving to grasp bow and arrow only to discover he had left them within the Hall. He pulled Celair to her feet and shoved the portrait back into the satchel.

"Run," he cried. "Get back to the Hall! Warn the guards that goblins have entered the forest! I will hold them off for as long as I can, but you must go for aid."

"But beloved," she exclaimed. "You are armed with only a belt knife! Would it not be better for us to flee together? If you stay, you will surely be killed!"

"I have no choice, dear heart," he said. "If we both fled, we would lead them directly to the Hall. It would be overrun within minutes if the guards received no warning. But if you go and I remain, then they will have to delay, giving you time to alert the guards." Celair looked at his determined face. The hideous cries of the goblins were coming closer. She stood for a moment, and then suddenly took off, clutching the precious satchel to her chest.

Seeing her go, Tanglinna drew his belt knife to face the goblins. Within moments, he was surrounded. He fought hard, using his familiarity with the forest to his advantage. He held them off for a time, but there were too many. Just as despair began to grip his heart, horns shattered air. Elven warriors sprang out of the trees, armed for battle. Seeing them, Tanglinna felt relief that he had not felt since the Great War. Without warning, the Master Archer felt a sharp blow on the back of his head. Everything began to blur, and the ground rushed towards his face.


	2. Faded Hope

Tanglinna awoke slowly, feeling a dull throbbing in his head. All around him he could hear the sound of furious arguing, and sound of weeping. What had happened? He struggled with himself for a moment, and managed to pry his eyes open. Looking around, he saw Riwmegor, Celair's father; King Oropher; and one of the healers. Hearing the Master Archer pushing himself upright, Riwmegor spun around and pushed him back down.

"Nay, Master Archer," he said. "You took a nasty blow and should not try to rise from bed for two days!" Tanglinna looked at him and looked at the king for help. Oropher smiled, amusement plain on his face.

"Thank you, Riwmegor," he said, rising to his full height. "I understand your feelings, but I must speak with Tanglinna alone." Celair's father gave the king a piercing look before walking slowly from the room. Oropher watched him go with sad eyes, then turned back to Tanglinna as the door slid shut.

"Well, old friend," he asked. "How do you feel?" Tanglinna considered for a moment, and spoke.

"I feel ready to resume by duties, my lord. May I ask how we faired against the goblins?" Oropher looked at the others for a moment.

"Our warriors triumphed with only minor wounds." Here the king paused, struggling to find the words he needed. "Unfortunately, though, that not all of our people were so fortunate. Old friend, I wish I had better new for you, but I fear the Lady Celair has not returned to the Hall. She alerted a patrol of the goblins and continued towards the Hall. When her presence was missed after the battle, scouts were sent out to see if she had become lost. They found her trail and followed it, but not long after she left the patrol, a second group of goblins appeared. Their tracks intersected hers. I fear they have taken her captive."

Tanglinna looked the king, his eyes begging him to retract his words. His mind was in a panic, for he knew what goblins did to their captives. Oropher looked down at his friend a motioned for the others to leave.

"We have scouts following their trail, old friend. We will find her." The king hesitated a moment, and then left room.

Tanglinna lay on the bed, his eyes closed. It could not end here, he swore. He would not leave his lady's fate to others. He would find her and rescue her himself. He had to.

* * *

Tanglinna slipped into the shadow of another tree. He was close now, close to the band of goblins that had kidnapped his lady. He could not see Celair, but he believed she still lived. He had to, or all he had done would be for naught.

He crept closer, moving in and out of the shadows cast by the pale moonlight. He could smell their foul stench. Glancing about, he located a tree with branches that hung over the goblin's camp. He climbed into it and crept down the branch to look closer at the creatures below him. Looking carefully, he could just make out Celair's slender frame lying just outside the light of the fire. His mind burned when he saw the cuts and bruises on her fair skin, and he silently promised himself that the goblins would not live to see the sun. Swiftly counting the goblins and noting their position, he slipped back down the tree trunk and crept around the camp.

Kneeling close to the lady's inert frame, he called her name softly, watching the slumbering goblins for any sign of movement. "Celair!" he whispered again. Still she did not answer. Reaching out carefully, he brushed her arm with his fingers. Slowly, she stirred, and turned her head towards him. Her eyes widened when she saw him. She opened her mouth to speak, only to clamp it shut. Pulling out his long hunting knife, Tanglinna cut the ropes that bound her and carried her away from the fire.

"Stay here," he whispered. "I will take care of the goblins. Then we will return to the Hall together."

Celair nodded, and, with Tanglinna's help, climbed into a nearby tree. See that she was now safe, Tanglinna returned to the goblin camp to complete his task.

* * *

Oropher sat on his throne, listening to a petition from one of the wood-men who wished to live his forest. He found himself struggling to pay attention, for his mind turned often to Tanglinna and Celair. He sighed silently, wishing Tanglinna had not crept out to hunt the goblins alone. With a silent shake, he focused his mind once more on the mortal who stood before him.

His head snapped up as the doors at the end of the throne room flew open and Tanglinna and Celair stumbled through. Riwmegor stared in disbelief and rising hope as he saw his daughter and future son-in-law walking wearily towards them.

Tanglinna looked at the surprised faces around him and tried to straighten his tired body. Celair swayed and clutched at him for support

"A healer," he cried, holding her upright. "Lady Celair requires a healer!"

A healer was found and the elf-woman pushed her way to dais where Celair was now seated. Tanglinna stood next to the women, fear rising in his throat. Oropher gripped his shoulder, giving his silent support. The healer straightened and smiled at the fearful Master Archer.

"Her wounds are minor, Master Tanglinna," she assured him. "All she requires is food and rest."

Tanglinna all but collapsed when he heard her words. He had been so frightened he would lose her. Tanglinna gave himself a small shake. He hadn't lost her. That was what mattered. He hesitated a moment and called servant to him. Whispering instructions, the servant left, returning a few minutes later with a small box. Taking a deep breath, he knelt down next to his lady, who was currently being plied with wine and food.

"My lady," he asked, "Will you marry me?"

Celair looked at him in surprise. Then she smiled.

"Of course, Silver," she said. "Of course."


End file.
